Drama
by Twentee Nyne
Summary: This is more dramatic than romantic. I'm actually not even shipping anybody here, though Zelda and Link are the main characters. Just stick with me through to the end. It should be a good read.
1. Prologue

Alright, this is a prologue to a short story that I got an idea for while in the shower. It's not going to be long by any means (at least, I don't plan on it being.) But, this will be chaptered for however long it is, and hopefully enjoyable through to the very end. Hope ya' like it! Always feel free to review/constructively criticize, and recommend to your friends if ya' liked it.

* * *

_How did we end up like this?_

Zelda's slender fingers trembled with steady vibrations of pain. She could feel the very pulse that had so vivaciously carried her through the toughest of situations weaken with every passing moment; _pump pump, pump pump . . . pump. . . pump_. She could not disentangle enough of her jumbled mind to clearly comprehend exactly what was occurring. The knowledge of where she was, what she was doing, and what had happened to her delicately melted through her fading grasp and slide just out of fingertip reach. She could not feel much of her body, and what she could only suggested that she was fortunate that half her body had abandoned her consciousness, but with each inch that she managed to crawl forward came another bout of debilitating chills and pricks from forest needles and twig ends. She could not proceed in the condition that she was. She could not even harbor enough of a mindset to identify what had befallen her let alone recall where she was or what she had been doing.

_Pump . . . . pump . . ._

Zelda stopped. She stopped futilely attempting to move forward and tried to refocus her thoughts. The swirling jumble behind her eyes meshed any sense of acknowledgement and defied any opportunity of understanding. She strenuously pried at her eyes until the lids slid up with the same sensation as the needles and twigs beneath her toppled body. She was not met with a favorable sight. The land she once gazed at with a longing of freedom and independence had been subjected to the horror of an artist's dreams. Colors bled together and deceived the eye from what was real and what was not. Oozing splotches of despondent murkiness scathed the already mangled depiction of unattainable answers. There was no light to shine upon dancing creatures that weren't there. There was no breeze to ruffle fluffy leaves that weren't there either. The artist's adversary had taken his palm and smeared it clean across a canvas that Zelda once considered precious. Now it was ruined, and she didn't know why. Her numb and trembling body was prodding her forgotten mind with questions that she could not answer. If only she could reach forward a mere arm length's distance perhaps she could wrap her anxious fingers around an answer and guide herself back into a vision of clarity and sensational insight as to why she was laying stranded in the midst of a scene emanating with despair and insignificance.

Zelda imagined herself opening her mouth to call for aid, but even her lack of competence could not faze over the painful knowledge that nobody would respond. Who was there to listen in a place where even color had been deemed irrelevant? She was alone. She was alone with her own agony as her isolating walls. Nobody would hear her. Nobody would _listen_ to her.

"Z . . ."

What?

"Z . . ."

Had her intangible cage of misery pushed her deep enough into her own subconscious that she was producing a false voice of valiant opposition?

"Ze . . . Zel . . ."

Except, it wasn't her voice producing the strained resistance. It was muddled, blanketed, and spoken from a world's distance, but it was a voice that spoke to her. There were words spoken by a distant being that wished to connect with what was left of her sense of self.

"Zel . . . Zeld . . ."

She knew that voice. Snared deep within the sphere of tangled thorns that was her mind was a single rose bud pulsing with the faintest of illuminating glow. It was nearly undetectable -- entirely unbelievable -- but undeniably present and growing despite harsh conditions. Sweet, glorious light surrounded the bud and created a beacon of what could be and what was. It was hope; the sight as marvelous as the sunrise over a shimmering lake surface; the aroma as crisp as rain freshly descended from the Goddess's own watering can; the taste as tantalizing as the first bite after a day's fast. It was a rose bud that defied nature and lived where desolate weeds and gritty soil reigned supreme. Or perhaps the bud did not defy nature, but rather embraced it and pronounced to all that hope made the impossible possible.

"_Zelda."_

The bud within her mind burst in a flourish of petals that sparkled dimly against the shade of murkiness continuing to envelope her battered self. The cherished flower itself took form and radiated with a vision of the familiar face that Zelda struggled so vainly to put to the voice calling her back to reality.

_Link._

"Li . . . Link . . ."

The strength to speak returned to her with a force that would have seemed dull had her body not already been in such traumatic condition. Instead, it seemingly roared in her throbbing head and lurched from her throat into the tension-filled atmosphere with all the hope that it reached the ears of her aspiring destination. Despite the shining outlet of hope within her, Zelda still could not filter out any recollection of what had occurred or why she was there. But Link was there too. He was enwrapped in this malicious state just as she was, but where was he? Zelda could not see him or feel him. She could barely hear him, but the words that did float back on the imaginary wind were more revitalizing than life itself.

"Zelda . . . I'm here. I'm here."

It was all the Hylian woman needed to hear. She was not alone. The Goddesses had managed to penetrate through her unusual prison and deliver unto her a gift of salvation that nearly surpassed her desire for knowledge. It was not a gift of gold or petty value; this was an irreplaceable bundle of reviving hope in the form of a person that she would undoubtedly entrust with every sliver of her being. Miniscule portions of strength began to glide across her broken self and remind her that with life came possibility. She could not move her arms or feel her legs, but just the feeling of energy warming the area around her still-beating heart provoked her into believing that this nameless condition may be defeated. Her fingers twitched, but they did not curl in. Her chest swelled, but it did not heave. Yet, even with the failing sense lurking about her in each direction, victory was awarded in these small reactions. She may not be able to curl her fingers or breathe fully, but when her lips parted, she could speak.

"I'm here, Link. Whe-where are you? Please . . . come to me . . ."

Zelda wanted to feel his presence. She needed the reassurance that he, too, longed for in her own position.

"I'm here, Zelda. I'm right . . . here."

All in one instant the world surrounding her lurched. Colors were tipped to the side and ran in streaks down the canvas that Zelda gazed upon. Spears of wind cut through her hair and rustled the clothing that she could now feel clinging to her sweat-soaked body. It stung at her cheeks and drew out thin lines of tears from the eyes that ravished in their sockets with the attempt at seeing what was truly surrounding them. Color still eluded the scene before her, but acknowledgement graced Zelda's whirling mind. Rubble, destruction, and a black sky encased her in a trap that was bitter sweet to the senses; it was frightening and destroyed, but it was recognizable. It had a name. It was Hyrule Castle. A thick strand pulled away from the ball of bewildered thoughts within Zelda's mind. It tied itself around her heart and promised her that this image from her memory was genuine. She was truly seeing remnants of her castle; truly hearing the wind slice through the canopy of trees overhead; truly _feeling_ the chill of another's hand grasping her wrist and enabling everything within her to break free of the hazy shell that had previously enveloped it all. It was Link's hand wrapped around her wrist, and it was Link's presence that shot through to her core and produced such an unconventionally wonderful scene. Could she also touch him and unlock this precious outlet to reality? She moved her hand -- she _moved_ her hand -- and curled her fingers around his palm.

"Do you . . . do you see it, Link?"

"I see it, Zelda. I see . . . you. Do you see me?"

She could feel the bloody cuts on cheeks as she utilized the strength within her to maneuver her neck toward his voice. It was as if the center of her energy had been uplifted to her heart and dispersed to where it was most needed. Only her neck moved, but it was all Zelda required for that specific moment. She could see Link, and the vision alone was enough to conjure up a mixture of unrelated emotions. An invisible aura of defeated loomed above his body with a threatening desire to overtake every last ounce of determination within him. The blood on his face refused to lift and let him forget about the terrible destruction that had been done. Would anyone recognize him with his torn and muddied clothing amongst a ravaged forest edge's floor? Would the needles and twigs be carried off his body by the streams of blood flowing lightly from gashes caked with mud and grit? His eyes . . . his eyes would save him. The shining blue of his eyes would alert the area as a beacon of salvation for the broken man. Except, the glow was lessening. The stubborn fortitude of his eyes had dulled to the pale shimmer of pond surface moments before the great rays of the sun flooded over the horizon.

"Link . . ."

Was he a mirror of her own image?

"Link, I see you."

She wanted to reach forward and take his face in her hands. She wanted to wipe away the trails of bloody tears from his cheeks and tell him to wake up; this was just a dream. It was merely a horrid nightmare and they would both awaken soon in the comfort of their own world. But, it wasn't a dream. She could not pry herself out of this subconscious nightmare and sigh with relief while sitting up frantically in her bedchamber with nothing but foolish mirages in her memory. It was all real, and Zelda was scared. Terror filled every niche within her and taunted her heart; _just give up. It's all real, and you cannot win. Give in to me. Give in to the inevitable. _

_No!_

Zelda felt her fingers tighten around Link's trembling hand. His remaining hand was inching forward. He was trying to reach out to her and console her in the only method possible. She felt the disheartening cold of his palm as he cupped her cheek and locked his gaze with her own.

"We're here, Zelda . . ."

"Link . . . how did we end up like this?"

* * *


	2. Chapter 1

Okay, well, I'm just kind of goin' with this. I really don't think it's anything special. Meh. But it gives me something to do during class, so I'll probably keep goin', haha.

* * *

The room was silent. Somewhere in the distance birds chirped and the faint scuttle of rodent paws scratched across the bare earth. But inside, between the stone walls and beneath the peaked ceiling, all had gone quiet.

Two pairs of eyes locked with each other. All the unsaid conversation was compensated by the enduring connection which closed out all other presences in the room. The remembrance of what had been announced lingered on their ears in a robe of incredulity.

"He's gone . . ." one female voice broke the silence-burdened atmosphere. "Ganondorf's gone."

Chairs clattered against the floor and walls as father and daughter leaped forward to embrace while tears of pure relief dripped from worry-laden eyes. The emotional blanket of the room altered dramatically as the pair bounced from wall to wall of the rundown farmhouse. Clay dishes fell to the ground while whole furniture was toppled or scooted out of place. The two Hylians provided a source of genuine ecstasy which poured into the room like a fountain and swept away the previous clouds of mutual concern. There was nothing to be concerned about anymore. Ganondorf was gone. Hyrule was free of its chains of oppression.

"He's gone, Dad! Link did it!"

"We're saved, Malon! The kid really did it!"

"Link saved Hyrule! Link saved us!"

The two could barely maintain their hold on each other as an immense wave of celebratory success washed over their bodies and caused their limbs to tremble and their minds to scatter.

"We have to go to Castletown! We have to find Link!"

"We have to celebrate! Grab your bags, Malon, there is no time to waste! What am I saying? We have all the time in Hyrule!"

"We must go! Oh, I have to feed the horses first! I have to tell them! How long will we be gone? We can't stay out for too long or the horses-"

"Malon! Ganondorf is gone!"

"I know, but-"

"Hyrule is saved!"

"You're right . . . let's go!"

As quickly as the news had been announced, the two ranchers were out the door and running over the grassy threshold of Lon Lon Ranch into a Hyrule Field free of monsters and threats.

The look of Hyrule Castletown was anything but dull. In the short amount of time it took for a word of Hyrule's victory to spread , the atmosphere of the well-populated city sprang from its dormant seclusion and reached for the resting place of the Goddesses themselves. Citizens poured out doors of homes and shops alike. The streets were quickly filled to the capacity, and yet, still more jovial people abandoned their work and play and crammed into the masses just for the simple sake of one evil man's death.

A banner had somehow managed to be hung amidst the raucous crowds. Crude as it was, the hastily scrawled lettering imitated a beacon of beaming victory for the beloved providence of Hyrule.

"Peace Rule Hyrule! Glory to the Hero of Time!"

The banner's words boomed over the heads of all the congregating Hyrulians Hylians, Zoras, and Gorons alike all gathering to praise their heroes and indulge in newfound peace. With crowds came rumors, and the word was quickly spread that the Hero of Time himself would be making an appearance at sundown with Princess Zelda of Hyrule. Malon and her father, Talon, wound their way through the tricky paths of the castle-based town. Their ears picked up the occasional decipherable shout amongst the people, but otherwise the collections of hoots and cheers were lost to the main jumble of celebration.

"This is crazy! Look, Dad! There's Ingo!"

"All of Hyrule must be here. Where can a fella' get a drink to celebrate his land's peace at?"

"Be careful, Dad! I don't think this is the best place to be losing your consciousness."

"Oh, phooey! Hyrule is saved! Anywhere is safe now!"

Malon's upcoming response fell inaudible as mighty cries erupted in the center square. Thunderous applause reverberated all around the packed town and the general calamity shifted at once to the main source of the abrupt outcry.

"Darunia! It's the leader of the Gorons!"

"Darunia! Darunia, savior of Hyrule!"

"Darunia, friend and brother to the Hero of Time!"

A ring of Gorons was allowed to form around the center of the public attention icon. All other onlookers contented themselves by merely seeing the brown tip of the now legendary Goron's head.

"Hah, hah, Hyrule! Welcome to the age of prosperity!"

The Goron leader and Sage of Fire's voice surpassed all with a booming tone that resonated through to the halfway deserted alleyways. His proclamation was met with another thunderous round of shots and victorious cries that rumbled the squared-in city. Darunia was soon hackled with questions from eager Hylians, devoted soldiers wanting to shake his hand, and small children trying to wrap their hands around his legs and scale the length of his body to sit on his monstrous shoulders and wave to friends and mothers. Darunia fed into the celebration and hoisted children into the air as he answered questions and systematically shouted his congratulations to Hyrule.

"Darunia! Will you be appearing with the Hero of Time?"

The large creature's chest swelled as he inhaled and indulged in the merriment in the air.

"Rest, no, celebrate assured that all sages will accompany Sworn Brother Link at sundown! It will mark the beginning of a night of everlasting celebration! Peace Rule Hyrule!"

The scene before Malon's eyes was uplifting and cheerful, but the confirmation of Link's appearance sparked her spirits. This was the man who approached her seven years ago and aided in the almost futile attempt of finding her lethargic father. He was the man who rushed into her ranch and rescued her horses from Ingo and Ganondorf's influence. She owed him a large debt of gratitude, and she had all the intention of repaying that debt.

"He's certainly a big Goron . . . Dad?"

The rancher woman shifted her eyes and scanned the immediate crowd. It was practically impossible to pick out any singular face amongst a crowd numbering higher than thousands, but Malon's search was short-lived as the man pinpointed her first.

"Malon, my dear, we're not sleepin' tonight! Glory to Hyrule!"

The man in his overalls stumbled forward with a mug of frothing liquid in one hand. His smile continued to widen past the point of normal behavior. The daughter could hardly refrain from grinning herself. Why should she worry? Hyrule had been stripped of its causes for concern. Let all Hyrulians celebrate in the most powerful ways of expression. Let them be happy! Peace and Glory to Hyrule! Hooray for Hyrule! Let peace live! Let prosperity live! Let us li-

"-nk, you're practically shaking. Are you sure you're alright?" The circular chamber was made of thick slabs of stone cut in an intricate pattern that muffled outside noise and silenced all noise made within. Regardless, the clamor in the many corridors and chambers of the Royal Palace penetrated the walls and constantly reminded the occupants of what Hyrule was now undergoing. The chamber's main occupants were both standing away from the arched window holes carved to face the town at the base of the grand castle. It had been merely days prior that the Royal Palace had been uprooted from its rightful position and replaced be a vile citadel that mirrored its sinister owner. That fortress acted as the origin of all Hyrule's previous oppression. It only seemed fit that the evil castle be wiped from existence by the same light magic that destroyed its ruler's reign.

"I'm fine, Zelda," Link responded while simultaneously betraying his own words by fidgeting with the hilt of the sword placed on the table before him.

"Right. Of course," the princess said incredulously. She hadn't had much time to get to know the man personally, but even so, it was not difficult by any degree to sense that Link was uncomfortable, perhaps even worried. She moved away from where he was seated and almost reluctantly glanced at the festivities through the window. Happiness. Pure happiness radiated from the congregation milling about like a single mass being pulled and pushed in all directions. Words were incoherent, but the mere tone of the outbursts and cheers was enough to identify the general consensus of emotion. Everyone was satisfied. They were relieved that impending destruction no longer loomed over their heads. Children would not have to starve and families would not be torn apart. Suffering was no longer what defined the people; her people.

"Link," Zelda spoke with her hands on the sill. "All these people . . . they're all safe, right?"

"Well, Ganondorf is gone, if that's what you're asking. They're safe from oppression and evilness."

"But are they ever truly safe? Ganondorf is gone, but what about everything else? What of crime and weather and, Goddess forbid, the possibility of all this happening again?"

"What're you talking about? Do you really think you can protect an entire country from the weather? You're doing everything you can to keep Hyrule in prosperity. This country is blessed to have you as its ruler."

"It was my fault that Ganondorf got his hands on Hyrule. I couldn't even do anything for seven years while he established his own reign. I can't let that happen again."

"You won't, Zelda. You've already thought about this, right? Well, stop thinkin' about it and realize that what you've done for Hyrule is far greater than what anyone else could do."

"I'm just frightened, I guess. It happened so easily . . ."

The silence that followed was both awkward and stubborn. Despite the celebration, the silence between the two would not yield to any possible words. Responses eluded Link while Zelda floated in her alone self-disclosure. Link's fingers continued to fidget with the sword on the table. It had a simple hilt that appeared dull, but that was not surprising for the Hero of Time. Only one sword -- the Master Sword -- could sufficiently quell his desire for a blade. That sword was magnificent in its own way. The emotion that Link attached to it was far deeper than any that Link had felt for any other item (save for one particular fairy ocarina). However, the deeper the emotion, the more complex it became. That sword was a thing created for nothing but death and slaughter. It was transformed in his hand from a thing of serene beauty to a lethal nightmare that wielded bloody death on its gleaming surface. The power alone was enticing. It tempted its beholder with immense portions of tantalizing control over a situation. More than once Link's lust bubbled for the sweet taste of that blade, and more than once he almost crumbled before its might.

"It's not going to happen again. Not that easily."

"It only it was as easily done as said."

"Do you think I'm going to allow somebody to just walk in and seize Hyrule after all the work we've done? Obviously you're already wary about it, so no suspicious character is going to slip beneath your scrutiny. Things are great, Zelda. Just enjoy it," Link finalized and wrapped his hand entirely around the hilt of the sword. It just wasn't the same as the Master Sword.

"Well, what about you? You've nearly stripped that hilt clean of its bindings. You still won't tell me what's wrong either."

"I told you, I'm fine. It's nothing. I just finished a journey across all of Hyrule's centers of evil. I'd be concerned if I wasn't fidgety."

Zelda's face was the picture of skepticism. She eyed him with an expression that pierced through his thick outer shell and probed through his true inner being in search of evidence against his outer pleas of normality. Link could almost sense her strong desire to root out his inner issues and emotions. It wasn't vibrant, but there was a still nagging in the air that linked the two and threatened to open Link's inner vault to the mind of the overseeing princess. He should have expected it. From what he knew of Zelda, she was certainly matronly toward all her people and land. It was almost to an unhealthy level, but then again, if she didn't openly care so much about her land and people, where would they be now? The hollers and cries of celebration may have been at their expense.

"You should probably rest before this evening. I'll send a caller when it is time to prepare."

"Are you going to follow your own advice?"

There was a short silence.

"Yes, I'll rest too."

"See you soon, then," Link nodded and departed.

"Later . . . I will rest later. I promise."

Zelda heaved a sigh that had built up over the length of their conversation. It was awkward to think about him as anything but the hero of her prophetic child dreams. He had always been there, in her mind, predicting the future of Hyrule. She still vividly remembered the day that he stumbled into her courtyard garden. HE was clueless to what was really going o behind the scenes of Hyrule's royal image. Even so, he still listened to her and followed her plea to collect the Spiritual Stones. He listened to her . . . that was a rarity anymore. He didn't have to heed her words, of course, but that man lingered about with his watchful eyes. And he was always fidgeting with that sword hilt. Zelda passed it off as anxiety. He had said it himself that it was normal to be affected by what had happened to him, but she wouldn't push him to divulge. After all, who was she to delegate what he should or should not do? She may have been the Princess of Hyrule, but she still hardly knew much about him. At least, she did not know the person Link. She had grown close to the Hero of Time side of the man through fate and exterior forces that were unavoidable. She watched him in her dreams and guided him through his journey, but she never sat with him and had a pleasantly causal conversation. Even the recent interactions typically ended the same way. Odd pauses were frequent, and his brother-like precautions and advice seemed out of place when coming from a mouth that cringed to hide true thoughts and emotions. If something was bother him that badly, why wouldn't he look for help? Would it be that horrible for the Hero of Time to actually prove his humanity by showing some emotion or weakness? Would anybody truly accept their savior as human and not godly?

"Probably not . . ."

She loved her people. They loved their god-like, power-endowed hero.

Princess Zelda gathered her skirts and slipped through the chamber door. The Sages would be waiting for her.

"Where's Darunia? He's the only one missing."

"Does that surprise you? He walked through the streets, you know. There's no doubt the crowds caught him up."

"I wouldn't lay blame on the crowds alone."

"You'd think he would die if the Goron missed a celebration."

"Oh, I don't know," Zelda's voice interjected amongst the others as she entered the room. "I would say he has reason to celebrate."

"G'morning, Princess," Saria, Sage of the Forest, greeted brightly with her big green eyes beaming.

"Is the Hero of Time prepared for this evening?" the womanly and enigmatic voice of Impa, Sage of the Shadow, asked of the princess she had grown to love as her own. Of course, her stoic face would not openly show it, but it was as evident as the woman's Sheikah race.

"I would say so," Zelda replied without showing her doubt. "I sent him to rest before the presentation. I have faith in his dedication to Hyrule."

"The kid took on Ganondorf and all his minions single-handedly. I refuse to believe he's getting cold feet about a public appearance."

"Oh, be nice, Nabooru. Link is probably just tired and shy. He can't help that," the Water Sage and Princess of the Zora, Ruto, reprimanded the Sage of Spirit. It was an interesting layout of people and faces that circled the center table and addressed one another. There was a mix of beliefs, race, and power circulating about within the chamber's perimeter, but all Sages were there for their love and connection to Hyrule. Their opinions merely reminded the land of their humanity.

"Rauru," Zelda spoke before Ruto and Nabooru could continue their conversation. "What have you to say about the seal on the Sacred Realm?"

"I'm afraid it's as you expected, Princess. It has only been a small number of days, but a bore has appeared in the magic. It is small and barely recognizable, perhaps merely a snag in the magic waves, but I will keep a sharp eye on it until it can be remedied. I do not believe it is anything to cause alarm right now," the Sage of Light responded through his thick white moustaches.

_It's not right now I'm worried about._

"You don't think Ganondorf is causing it, do you?" Saria proposed the idea that ha befallen everybody's minds.

"Is it possible? Even he is not that strong," Ruto replied while glancing at her decorated fins.

"Do not underestimate him. He is Gerudo, after all. His resilience can never be snuffed out short of actually destroying the man," Nabooru commented in return. Her prominent nose only seemed to rise when the pride of the Gerudo was on the line, but of all the Sages present, Ruto was the last to take note of racial advocacy.

"But only days . . . the Sacred Realm is by no means weak. He could not be able to rebuild his power beneath the seal?" the Water Sage spoke with concern shadowing her pretty aquatic features. The countless number of possibilities for the situation at hand did not ease the anxiety after the one that was most prominent. The combined magic of the seven Sages was nothing to be underestimated. They were all aware of its potency and strength. It was a combined effort of all their strengths together, after all, and they knew well enough just how much effort had gone into assuring that the vile man was securely held.

"We are consuming ourselves with something that more than likely is nothing of consequence," Saria said in hope of lightening the quickly declining mood.

"It is our duty to fret where others remain ignorant," Impa's cool voice slid across the gloomy atmosphere in an almost chilling manner. Following her guardian's words, Zelda adopted an expression of firm control.

"Rauru has said that there is nothing to be done at this stage, so we will do what we can be keeping a close watch at all times. As for now, however, there is a celebration to be had. I want you all to enjoy it. You deserve it as much as Hyrule does."

"Bah-hah, right you are, Highness!"

Darunia's boisterous voice echoed through the chamber and heralded the large Goron's entrance. His large eyes glimmered with a fierce emotion that could only be defined as fiery happiness. He appeared almost more fearful than excited. The maniacal grin etched into his stony features looked oddly out of place, yet simultaneously warming and confident. The Fire Sage's impressive fists pumped into the air as he greeted the rest of the group.

"Why such glum looks? The entire land is up in celebration! Castletown is about to burst at the seams, I'd reckon. It'll be a great reception this evening."

"We appreciate you finally deciding to show up," Nabooru spoke through a thin veil of contempt.

"Aw, c'mon, Nabooru," the Goron leader replied. "Are you still trying to maintain that icy mask? It's alright to let loose a little! You might even enjoy it."

The two Sages caught each other's gaze and locked it together with Nabooru's deceiving glower and Darunia's amused smirk. Their mouth may have been bent into a petty scowl and childish grin, but their eyes danced with enjoyment for one another's interesting, yet awkward, company.

"Welcome, Darunia," Zelda greeted with a shown intrigue in his experience in the town. "I hope it's clean celebration in the streets."

"Ah, ya' have nothing to fear," Darunia replied after breaking his staring contest with Nabooru to return Zelda's kindly grin. "No riots have broken out, although I'm impressed at their organization! You'd think they had taken days to decorate! Maybe the optimistic citizens had it all planned out already. I'm not sure, but the sights sure do make a Goron feel good."

Zelda nodded as a flash of sincere pride glinted in her eyes.

"At least that's some good news then," Ruto said before Saria spoke up behalf of Darunia's previous absence.

"We were discussing the hole in Ganondorf's seal in the Sacred Realm."

"Are you tellin' me that man is breaking through our magic?" Darunia asked as his celebratory mask melted into a serious visage of business-like concern that the other Sages had grown accustomed to seeing over the past year.

"The causes are unsure as of now," Rauru plainly stated. "We are taking the necessary precautions, but there is not much else that can be done. The magic is finite and the bore miniscule. Ideally, it is naught but a snag in the threads."

"Ideally," Impa's distant musing was evident in her tone.

"Well, if it is somethin' to worry about, what'll we do about it?" Darunia asked with a forward attitude that contrasted sharply with his previous façade. Celebrating and optimism were prevalent for the Goron, as well as the general Goron race, but when it came down to security and safety of the land, Darunia was the first to fret. His dedication was admirable, if not a bit excessive, but it was difficult to consider any amount of such a trait too excessive when it came to repeating historical situations.

"Can't we just patch it up?" Ruto proposed.

"The fibers of the weaving are unlike anything I have ever seen. They are unique and strong, an effect from the situation, I presume. I have attempted to duplicate the magic, but it is futile. Even with all of our combined power, I'm afraid we cannot replicate a weaving complex and strong enough to efficiently seal the bore," Zelda's words were almost a bit reluctant in her admitting of her inabilities. Her hands folded onto her lap as she routinely eyed the crowd of Sages around her. Each one had his or her own opinionated expression etched onto their faces. Impa was the only person present that appeared to be devoid of emotion, but Zelda knew better. Stoic as the Sheikah woman was, her concern and care for Hyrule was evident even without the title of Sage.

"If we did it before, surely we can do it again?" Saria emphasized.

"I'm afraid not," Zelda spoke again with her reluctance. "It's grating not knowing the difference between then and now, but I am aware that the circumstances played a large part in the creation of the seal."

"You don't suppose we lost some power after we made the seal?" Saria's child-like voice spoke again.

"Power is a vague term. It is embraced rather than harnessed," Impa's enigmatic response drifted from her almost unnoticeable place at the table.

"The magic of the Sages has not been altered in any way," Rauru clarified and folded his arms into the wide sleeves of his robe. "Whatever the reason, we will investigate. For now, however, we must keep the situation beneath our breath for the sake of the land. We cannot refuse Hyrule of its victory."

"I agree, Rauru. Hyrule needs the time, and we will ensure that the people receive their deserved celebration," Zelda said while flitting a gaze from Sage to Sage. Emotion may have varied as much as physical attributes, but regardless, they all shared a common bond that surpassed all others in regards to strength. They all cared for Hyrule; it was their land and it was their desired obligation to protect all those inhabiting that land.

"Shall we tend to the festivities then?" Darunia asked with a hopeful expectancy. Zelda's weary and concerned expression shifted slightly into a caring and friendly grin.

"Of course," she replied. "Yes, let's enjoy the celebrations."

"You said it, Highness! C'mon, Nabooru, ya' ole stuffy desert dweller! Let's go show ya' how to really celebrate!" the big Goron leader smiled something that could almost be categorized as sheepish. Standing up around the table, he beckoned for the Spirit Sage to accompany him.

"Clearly you've never been to a Gerudo celebration," she replied wryly before amusing the Goron by joining him in a departure riddled with jesting insults and verbal comebacks.

"I shall return to the Zora and lead them to Castletown before the evening," Princess Ruto bade her farewell with a flourishing smile. She was not one to take note of another race's accomplishments, but if the Zora were the topic of conversation and praise, Ruto knew no boundaries. Saria could hardly contain a chuckle.

"Not the most included of race, are they? Then again, we aren't even allowed to leave the forest, so we don't have much to talk either. See you tonight!" The green-haired girl departed, leaving only Impa, Rauru, and Zelda around the table. The expression of Impa was impossible to decipher, but with only the Light Sage and princess left, her words flowed freely on a boat of concern.

"The bore is widening," she said without a hint of question.

"I'm afraid it is true," Rauru's grave expression was far from reassuring.

"If only we could figure out why we cannot patch the hole and stop it from growing. For the life of me, nothing seems to come close to working," the level of frustration in Zelda's voice steadily rose as she spoke. Her seemingly delicate hands curled into fists. Nothing made sense. It had only been days since the sealing of the Evil Lord. How could he be influencing such a strong bond after only days?

"I will continue to watch the seal and do all I can to discover anything beneficial. I am sure there is something I am merely overlooking," Rauru's heavy robes draped to the floor as he stood from his chair. His wisdom-filled eyes were almost radiating with a frustration that was more nagging than worrisome. A crease of exhaustion furrowed his brow. "Peace Rule Hyrule."

"Peace Rule Hyrule," Zelda repeated the mantra and watched the white-haired sage exit. Turning to Impa, Zelda allowed some of the concern she previously held back to wash over her facial features.

"You should rest," the Sheikah stated firmly.

"I wish I could, Impa," Zelda replied wearily.

"Is it the boy? I can handle any duties regarding him."

"He's different since Ganondorf's fall. Something is bothering him, and I am not convinced that what he is telling me is the truth."

"It is a delicate time for us all. Rest can be the best cure," Impa's firm yet caring tone shone through even brighter with the repetition of her suggestion.

"I must first tend to the Lady Culvira's propositions. She has been pressing restrictions on population even before Ganondorf's reign. Her dedication is admirable, but I'm afraid there is a fine line between dedicated and frustrating."

"Zelda, you know you do not have to have audience with every noble that crawls in asking for wine when there is only water."

"I know, Impa, I know. But if I do not garner authority from the beginning, then it will end up a complicated mess of requests and demands that only eventually end up at my feet in a tangle of confusion. Better to silence it first and deal with the headache after."

"Wise words. You will do well as Queen," Impa finally said after a portion of time where her eyes seemed to move up and down in judgment. Or, perhaps it was merely pride.

"Thank you, Impa. It is good to know I can trust you to believe when everyone else does not."

"Everyone else meaning yourself,"

"I promise to get some rest. I will see you this evening, Impa."

"Rest well, Highness."

Tossing in his bedding, Link thrashed at dangers that were not there. Sweat beaded across his forehead and down his bare chest. They wouldn't leave him alone. He couldn't close his eyes without seeing . . .

_A slanted beam of light danced on the cool stones of the temple floor. Upon the slightly raised dais rested a simplistic pedestal with a complex purpose. The Pedestal of Time almost glowed in its dusty bath of light. However, despite any sheen bouncing off the cut stone, the shining blade protruding from the pedestal surpassed all in elegance. Entirely unscathed and perfectly constructed in every physical way, the Master Sword stood with an aura of tantalizing and majestic power._

_And he couldn't reach it._

_He should be able to wrap his fingers around the blue hilt of the Blade of Evil's Bane and effortlessly slide the blade free of its stone sheath. But he could not reach forward. Nothing moved at the attempt of shifting his hands, feet, or neck. He was nothing but a pair of eyes forced to look where he was guided._

_There was a snicker in the distance._

_The large and open chamber was shrouded in inky shadow where the unnatural beam of light did not reach. Somewhere unidentifiable in that black ring rang a cackling giggle. Another would always react and sob backing response. Both emissions came from everywhere -- nowhere -- within the perimeter shadows. All he could do was watch, listen, and wait._

_"Take it, Hero," one voice cackled in a malice-ridden tone that slide from word to word. "You're going to need it. We promise. You're going to need it unless you wish to condemn your precious land to ultimate suffering."_

_"You must take it," the second voice said, always in order, after the first. This one, however, adopted a method of emotional reasoning. It was fearful and nearly pleaded with him to listen. "Hyrule will suffer. Danger is looming in the near distance, and nobody sees it! But we do. You must listen! Do not let Hyrule fall into pain. Please! Take the Master Sword and stop this before everyone is forced to suffer!"_

_More laughter and frightened sobbing emanated in the chamber until it seemed the walls were beginning to close in on one another. The ceiling lowered itself while darkness became animated and crawled toward the center dais. It scratched and struggled while still inching forward until all that was left was a slim beam wide enough to illuminate only the Master Sword itself._

_"Take it!" one laughed._

_"Take it!" the other cried._

"No!"

Link ripped out of his sheets with his chest soaked and eyes blazing. In an instant, his eyes flashed as pupil-less white, and back again.


End file.
